


Sleazy Bed Track

by oneluckystriker



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneluckystriker/pseuds/oneluckystriker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Imagine Person A wakes up before Person B to get ready for the day. B eventually rouses but pretends to be asleep as they watch A dress. As A grooms and prepares, B feels their heart warm for A’s beauty and presence in their life. Bonus if B draws A back into the bed to cuddle and make love.”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleazy Bed Track

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill from OTP Prompts on Tumblr: [[x]](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/59732097547/imagine-person-a-wakes-up-before-person-b-to-get)
> 
> Title mercilessly taken from the Bluetones' "Sleazy Bed Track".

When Babe wakes, it’s to a dull ache in the base of his spine and smooth sheets curled around his toes like hot sand. From where he lies he can just barely make out the sky past the window; a fruity concoction of spritz cocktail under the morning sun. Still early, his mind supplies. Doesn’t have anywhere to be today. But then he remembers and—  
Hands spread out across the bed sheet - languid, groggy, but desperate -, trailing the slight dip from where another body lay pressed into the mattress not too long ago. It doesn’t take more than a moment for the memories to come rushing back— short nails digging into his scalp, wet lips bee-lining down his collarbone, whispered words in french, that he doesn’t understand but feels vividly in the pit of his stomach. Hot skin and hitched breaths and strangled moans muffled into the pillows. It’s enough to make the corners of his lips pull taut into a blissful grin across his face.

Vaguely, he can hear light footsteps padding across the apartment, back and forth from the kitchen to the bathroom, and to Babe it’s reminiscent of life back at the Heffron house. For a moment he’s back in Philly; lying awake in bed and listening to his parents murmur in the darkness as they put dishes away or flip through crappy week-night television. It’s comforting enough to make him sink back down into the sweet confines of the bed, keeping his eyes closed but ears attentive. Gene would laugh at that; pointedly state that the lanky ginger wasn’t happy unless he felt like he was drowning in a sea of cushions. It almost pulls a quick chuckle out of Babe himself, but then he hears the footsteps growing closer and brush against the carpet at the foot of the bed.

Suddenly just listening isn’t enough. He wants to see him. Babe scrunches his nose and cracks one eye open before he deems it safe and the blurry contour of the figure becomes more focused; more stark against the pale bedroom walls and dark pine drawers which have grabbed the man’s attention.  
He keeps his breathing light and even as he observes Gene rifle through stacks of clothing; careful so as not to give himself away. Babe notes that he’s picked out the standard light blue scrubs as opposed to the green he knows Gene prefers, and somewhere at the back of his mind he remembers - _oh yeah_ \- they still need to do laundry. But it doesn’t take from the way they hang _just so_ on his shoulders and taper in _ever so slightly_ at the waist to show off the doctor’s form. When he shoves the clothes back into the drawer Babe assumes he’s found what he’s looking for as he dips down to pull on a pair of socks.

And Babe feels pride and admiration swell in his chest as he realises it’s the _little things_ that make this man so beautiful. It’s the way his hair shines blue when the light is just so, and the way the tip of his nose is always cold and slightly pink in the winter. It’s the way he tastes of nicotine and coffee and behind that it’s all _Gene_. It’s the way he murmurs softly against Babe’s ear just to let him know he’s there and the way he will sit in silence for hours - close but not crowding - because he knows that’s exactly what Babe needs. It’s the little things. And Babe finds himself wondering what on Earth he must have done to have earned a man like Eugene Roe.

Before he can come up with a legitimate answer, though ( _“I gave money to that homeless guy once,”_ he thinks to himself _“I was never too bad to my kid brother”_ ), he finds himself on the receiving end of Eugene’s blue-green eyes and he has to wonder _how long has he noticed_.  
Gene is leaning against the set of drawers, arms crossed and a small smile pulling at his lips. He’s looking at Babe with something akin to fondness, although Babe’s never really been one for reading facial cues. But the silence isn’t awkward or forced. Not with Gene. So they sit quietly, content to gaze at each other, exchanging small smiles from across the room, before Babe finally decides to break the silence.

“Hey.” He croaks out, too used to his broken voice in the mornings to give a damn about the way he suddenly sounds like a pubescent boy.

Gene only smiles wider, then pushes himself off the drawers to come around and let himself sink onto the mattress. “Mornin’.” He says; Louisiana accent adding a special lilt to his words. There’s a little twinkle in his eyes this morning that has Babe wondering what on Earth could be going on in his mind. But soon it’s not even a concern as he shimmies over and pulls the doctor beneath the covers.

Babe rests his head on Gene’s chest and with every beat of his heart that passes by he can feel the warmth of the bed tempt him further and further back into unconsciousness.

But the temptation of Gene is even stronger; legs interlocked and body pinned tight in Babe’s arms, and he feels Gene’s chest wrack with laughter as he reaches up and captures his lips in a sloppy “good morning” kiss. There’s no nicotine this morning, no coffee. Not even the tang of peppermint toothpaste, and he smiles. It’s just _Gene_. Babe hums and adjusts his position, straddling the doc, and allowing his hands to explore the smooth fabric of the scrubs beneath him. He’s so intent on the frill of the elastic waistband he nearly doesn’t notice when Gene clasps Babe’s shoulders and switches their positions with an almost professional efficiency. But he can’t find it in himself to complain as he finds a pair of hot, chapped lips sucking and nipping at his neck between murmured words that he recognizes vaguely as french; rolling off his tongue sweet and thick like honey.

It’s enough to make him growl when Gene stops. He can feel the air cold and sharp where Gene had payed special attention to it and he opens his eyes to glare at the man but instead finds him reaching across to the bedside table, flipping open a matt black phone and dialing quickly with shaking fingers as he catches his breath.  
One corner of his lips are pulled back to create a lopsided smile - or perhaps a smirk - as he gazes down at the redhead, who raises a brow in confusion. It’s only when the doc opens his mouth to talk that Babe catches on and sports a grin of his own.

“Renée?” He speaks into the phone, and Babe is almost in awe of how well he keeps his voice in check. “Yeah. No, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it into work today.” Pause. “Yeah, something like that. In fact, at this rate, I’ll probably be in bed all day.”

**Author's Note:**

> Um... wow. Okay, this was my first attempt at romantic character interaction, so I hope I didn't do too bad. I couldn't quite bring myself to write ~sexy tiemz~ quite yet. Let me tell you; it's a lot different writing it than it is reading it!  
> But when I came across this prompt I just couldn't resist writing something for my OTP.
> 
> I'd appreciate some reviews, if you care to indulge me! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! <3


End file.
